Seven Days
by nixajane-f0rcryin0utl0ud
Summary: Missing scene to Urgo. What did SG-1 do that week they were confined to base? *COMPLETED*
1. Day One: Jack

**Seven Days**

by ForCryinOutLoud and Layton Colt__

_Day One: Jack____

(This part written by FCOL)

"The devices are still present, but the EM field that was being emitted by them is gone. Everything else checks out to me."

"Request permission for SG-1 to go back to work, Sir."

"Give it a week."

"A week?"

*********

_A week.__ What am I supposed to do for a week stuck here on base? I can't even have any pizza or beer ForCryinOutLoud! The TV doesn't have cable. I'm missing the playoffs. This royally sucks. Well, I guess that leaves only one thing to do._

"Hey, Danny boy!" _Oh yeah, he looks happy to see me._

"Huh . . . oh. Hi, Jack."

"Whatcha doin?"

"Uh . . . actually I'm getting caught up on some translations that have been piling up on me."

"Sounds like fun." _Yeah Right._

"Can I do something for you, Jack?"

"Oh . . . I just wanted to see if you were hungry." _Or annoy you, anything to pass the time._

"Hungry . . .? um . . . it's only 1:30, Jack, we ate less than 2 hours ago."

"Right . . . sorry." Rocking back and forth on my heels, I look around at all the crap Daniel has in his office. He should seriously consider getting a housekeeper in here. I don't know how he can find anything.

Turning my gaze back to the man before me, I see he's staring at me. Ooops. Guess I'm beginning to annoy him. Ah well . . . when there is nothing to do, there's nothing like the ole' annoy Danny routine to brighten my day.

"Jack . . ."

"Daniel . . ."

"Was there something else?"

"Nope."

"Um . . . why don't you try wading through that mountain on your desk."

"Paperwork? On my downtime? You must be joking." _The kid needs to get out more._

"*Sigh* I've really got a lot of work to do Jack."

"Don't let me stop you." I flop into the couch by Daniel's desk, picking up a magazine sitting on the table beside me. Flipping through, I can sense him boring holes through me. _He'll cave...any minute now. Yup. Any minute now._

Looking down at my watch I see that 20 minutes have passed. _Well there's a chunk of my life I'll never get back._ I've actually been sitting here, flipping through this dusty old magazine with pictures of dead people in it for a whole 20 minutes! Looking at Daniel, I'm aghast to find that he has been sucked back into his translation. He's obviously forgotten I'm still here.

"Ahem."

"Jack! You're still here?"

"Yes! I'm still here." _I KNOW I should be insulted._

"Sorry . . . I . . . this is just so fascinating. This script shows that the people of P6C-972 were possibly of Irish Celtic origin. Apparently the Goa'uld transplanted them only about 2050 years ago."

"Daniel . . ."

"It's amazing to see how they have not advanced much beyond what they had when the Goa'uld transplanted them 2 millennia ago."

"Daniel . . ."

"We should really ask General Hammond if we can go there Jack. I think I could learn so much from these people that . . ."

"DANIEL!" _The kid definitely needs to get out more._

"What?"

"ForCryinOutLoud! Enough already. Put your books down. Come on."

"What . . .? No, I have to finish this Jack."

"We'll get some coffee." I reply in a sing song voice that has Daniel's eyes sparkling at the mention of his favorite addiction.

"Well . . . maybe just for a few minutes." _Now how did I know he was going to say that?_

"Good. Let's grab Carter and Teal'c on our way." We make our way out of Daniel's office, our two shadows following behind. _I still can't believe that we have to have guards. I mean I understand why we have to have escorts around the base but it's still annoying._

**********************

Walking into the cafeteria we are bombarded by stares from the staff. The last time we were here we were eating enough desert to feed the entire SGC. But man was it good. I never had pie that tasted THAT good before. OK, so there was one thing I missed about not having Urgo around, but I was definitely willing to settle for regular tasting pie if it meant I was alone in my own head.

Daniel heads straight for the coffee pot, Carter for the blue JELLO, Teal'c for the ice cream and I . . . well . . . I opted for pie. We all headed for a table in the corner, as far away from prying eyes as we could get. 

"What are we all planning to do with our week of downtime?" Carter, ever the optimist.

"You mean our week of forced confinement?"

"Actually, Sir, we are only being confined to base. It could be worse. We could be back on Level 22 in isolation."

"Please, don't remind me."

"You know, you should use this time, Jack."

"To what? Catch up on paperwork? No thanks." _Note to self, get the kids out of the mountain ASAP._

"Perhaps you would care to join me in Kel'No'Reem, O'Neill."

I look at Teal'c. _I can't tell if he's serious or not. God I hope he's not._

"Uh . . . thanks, T, think I'll pass." He simply inclines his head and returns to his ice cream. I'm amazed that the man can eat that much ice cream, that fast and not be writhing on the floor in agony. Maybe Jaffa's don't get ice cream headaches.

"Well, Sir, I should really get back to work."

"Yeah, me too, Jack. I have to finish those translations."

"Teal'c?"

"I must return to finish Kel'No'Reem, O'Neill."

"*Sigh* Alright kids. Have fun." _Now what am I gonna do?_

I watch as the rest of my team all leave the commissary to go and do work and whatever it is Teal'c does. I'm convinced he's just sleeping while sitting on the floor. Sighing I grab some red JELLO and head to my office. Maybe I'll be able to find something to do there.

_Yup.__ This is fun. Fun, Fun, Fun. _I stare at the yo-yo as it descends once again to the floor. Great invention, the yo-yo. Not as good as hockey . . . or beer . . . _I SO need to get off this base, I'm not gonna survive. _Looking at the clock I see that only 6 hours have passed of our enforced stay on base. _Oh yeah, this is going to be a long week._


	2. Day Two: Sam

_Day Two: Sam______

(This part written by Layton Colt)

"Daniel, be careful," I warn.

"Sure, Sam," he tells me. But he's using the same tone he does when he responds to the Colonel telling him to get a life, or leave the base for a day. Or eat. So I get the impression I'm being humored. 

"Daniel, really," I begin. 

"I know. I'm being very careful," he reassures me. 

His tone, however, is still anything but reassuring. I sigh and resign myself to his methods. It was me, after all, who called for him to come help me. The device he's currently flipping over in his hands was brought back by SG-7 two weeks ago. It's a small rectangle, made almost entirely from naquaada. We aren't sure what it does, or what the writing on it says. But it's my job to figure out the former, and Daniel's the latter. 

"It almost looks like Greek," he tells me, carelessly running his fingers over the writings etched on the surface. "But I can't be sure--and it isn't entirely. Perhaps it's a mix of languages, or the results of a Greek culture left to grow and evolve on their own . . ."

My eyes begin to glaze. Nothing like listening to Daniel to realize how the Colonel feels when he's listening to me. Or when he's listening to Daniel. I wince. Poor Colonel O'Neill. No wonder he hates scientists. 

"Did you hear me, Sam?" Daniel is asking me. 

I look up. "What?" I say. 

He sighs. Daniel's used to us. He's gotten in the habit of explaining things more than once. And, on occasion, more than twice. 

"It's definitely a variant of ancient Greek. I think I can translate it," he says. 

He's such a sweetheart. I love it when he summarizes. 

The door to my lab crashes open, that sound quickly followed by a loud 'clap' as the Colonel enters and slaps his hands together. "So what are we doing today, kids?" he asks with a grin. 

Daniel winces and turns to face the Colonel. "Tired of playing with your yo-yo already, Jack?" he asks. 

The Colonel frowns, obviously trying to decide if he's been insulted or not. With Daniel, it's always hard to tell. 

"We're working on the item SG-7 brought back, sir," I put in quickly. 

"Ah--what was that one from again? Good ole' PX08395, was it?" he asks with a grin. 

Daniel makes a face. "It was PXP8753, Jack," he corrects. 

"Yes, well, anyway," the Colonel says. He nods to the item in Daniel's hands. "What's it do?" he asks. 

"We aren't sure yet, Jack," Daniel tells him before I get the chance. "That's why we're here, studying it."

I sigh. And take the device from Daniel to place on the counter between us. I love Daniel to pieces, and the Colonel is the best commanding officer I've ever met, let alone served under, but put them together--and you were sure to end up with fireworks. 

"Where's Teal'c?" I ask, cutting the Colonels sure to be caustic retort off at the start.  

"He's in the gym," he tells me. "I was sparring with him, but he got pissy because I kept winning." He rocks back on his heels and Daniel and I share a look. 

The Colonel never won against Teal'c. 

No one won against Teal'c. 

"Well--you should go get yourself some pie, or something," Daniel says distractedly. He's leaning against the counter now, staring intently at the words on the device, his mouth moving as he attempts to translate. 

The Colonel frowns. "The pie doesn't taste as good anymore," he complains. 

"At least Urgo is gone, though, sir," I point out. "And in a week we'll be able to return to active duty." 

He shrugs. "I'd almost give it all up for another piece of pie that tastes like that piece of pie tasted." 

I nod. I could relate. That was the kind of pie one might sell their souls for.

"I just wish we'd had more of a chance to communicate with him," Daniel says. "Learn more about his creators, his purpose--"

"His _purpose,_" the Colonel annunciates clearly. "Was apparently to annoy the hell out of us and make us fat." 

I can't help it. I giggled. 

The Colonel grins at me, pleased his humor was being appreciated. Daniel rolls his eyes. "Don't you wonder about him at all, Jack? He was a life form, not the kind we're used to, to be sure, but a living, interactive intelligence all the same." 

"He was annoying," the Colonel says. As though this alone was enough justify putting an end to his existence. 

Daniel shakes his head, giving up on the discussion, and turns his attention back to the device. 

"Oh come on, Daniel--you can't honestly tell me you're sorry he's gone. How the hell were we supposed to have lives with a nightmarish imaginary friend following our every move?" 

Daniel sighs. "That's just it, Jack. He wasn't imaginary. Maybe he wasn't flesh and blood, but he was real." 

I nodded. "I agree with Daniel, sir."

The Colonel rolls his eyes at both of us. 

"Jack, why don't you go spar with Teal'c some more?" Daniel asks. "Sam and I are going to be working on this for a couple of days, minimum." 

"I thought we could all go eat. We have to eat." 

"I'm not hungry, sir," I say quickly. 

Daniel nods his agreement. "I had a Fifth Avenue a couple hours ago."

The Colonel grimaces. "You need real food. Both of you. Feed your brains. Come eat--and then I bet you'll come back and figure this thing out in no time." He grins at us then, proud of himself for thinking up such wonderful advice. 

"Sorry, Jack. But I don't have time to eat, I think I'm on to something . . ." 

The Colonel then looks to me, giving what I've come to interpret as, come on, be the reasonable one--set a good example. Unfortunately, I was with Daniel on this one. 

"I'm sorry, sir. But we have to get this done, maybe in a couple of hours . . ."

His face falls and he stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. Sure," he says with a nod. 

Daniel glances up at him. "We would, Jack, but--" he begins. 

The Colonel cuts him off. "Don't worry about it," he says in a clipped voice. Then he turns to leave the lab. 

"I'm sorry, Jack! We'll get something to eat later, okay?" Daniel calls after him. The Colonel doesn't slow down. "Where are you going?" 

The Colonel doesn't turn as he responds. 

"I'm going to play with my yo-yo."

TBC--_let the madness begin . . . _


	3. Day Three: Daniel

_Day Three: Daniel___  
  
(This part written by FCOL)

I haven't seen Jack all day. Haven't seen him since yesterday actually. I feel bad that we turned him down about getting something to eat. Normally it wouldn't have been a big deal but I know that sometimes Jack feels a little left out when we aren't out on a mission. Off-world he knows exactly what needs to be done and gets it done. Here on base he tends to feel a little obsolete. _We probably should have gotten something with him, I mean, it couldn't have hurt to take a break, considering the fact that Sam and I still haven't figured the device out yet._

"Hey, Daniel, have you seen the Colonel today?" I look up at Sam as she walks back into her office. I woke up early this morning, heading straight back to work on the device.

"I haven't seen him since yesterday. I think he's still a little upset."

"We can make it up to him today. I think I need a little break from trying to figure out this device anyway."

"Alright, why don't we all meet for lunch? I'll go get Jack and you find Teal'c?"

"Sounds like a plan."

I watch Sam head off towards Teal'c's quarters._ I guess that means it's time I go look for Jack. _Smiling and greeting the passing SGC personnel, I finally reach Jack's quarters. Tentatively knocking, I wait for Jack to answer before entering. _Still waiting._ Knocking once more, I twist the knob. _Maybe Jack isn't even here._ Opening the door, I can't help shaking my head at the scene before me.

"Why am I not surprised?"

Jack jumps at my voice, quickly shutting of the TV. Homer Simpson now replaced by blackness.

"What are you doing here, Daniel?"

"I thought perhaps you'd like to join Sam, Teal'c and I for lunch?"

"Maybe later. I've got some things to do today."

"You aren't still upset about yesterday are you?" _Of course he is, this is Jack._

"I wasn't upset."

"Yes you were."

"No I wasn't."

"Were."

"Wasn't."

"Were."

"Daniel . . ."

"Jack . . ."

Sighing, Jack runs a hand through his hair and looks at me. "I'm not in the mood right now. I think I'm going to go do a little sparring."

"Jack, look, we said we were sorry." _We should have just gone with him._

"Daniel, I'm not a child and I am not holding a grudge against you for not coming to eat yesterday. I'm just not hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"I am not."

"They've got pie," Daniel replies in a familiar sing song voice. _Pie, Jack will definitely go for pie._

"I don't want pie, Daniel."

"Are you ok? Do you feel sick?"

"What? What are you talking about? I feel fine."

"Jack, you _always_ want pie. Maybe you should visit Janet."

"Oh haha very funny."

"Come on, Sam went to get Teal'c. It's not like you can spar alone." _Uh oh.___

Jack gets a gleam in his eyes that makes me wish I hadn't mentioned sparring alone. I know what's coming next. _Damn._

"Well, that's very true, Danny boy."

"No." 

"What?"

"No."

"I haven't said anything."

"I know what you're thinking."

"You're a mind reader now?"

"I'm not sparring with you, Jack."

"That's a wonderful idea, Daniel! I wish I'd thought of it."

"No. No. No." _NoNoNo___

"Look, you're the one that wanted to spend some time together today."

"To get something to eat, Jack, not try and beat the crap out of each other."

"So, we'll get something to eat afterwards. I promise I won't hurt you. Please?" People say that I have puppy dog eyes, that they get me whatever I want. That is SO not true. Jack, Jack is the one with the puppy dog eyes.

_Damn. That's it, he's got me. Jack is definitely not as dumb as he acts. He knows I feel guilty and is milking it for all it's worth. Sad thing is..._

"Alright, fine."

"Great! I'll meet you in the gym."

Jack begins whistling as he heads towards the gym, while I turn myself towards the commissary to tell Sam and Teal'c we won't be having lunch just yet. _Dun Dun Dun._ Why do I have the feeling this isn't going to be a good day?

"Daniel, are you crazy? Why are you sparring with the Colonel?"

"I do not believe this is a wise activity, Daniel Jackson."

"Look, Jack knows I feel guilty about yesterday. We'll just spar a couple of rounds, he'll feel better, we can come get something to eat and everything will be back to normal."

"I don't know, Daniel." 

"I'll be fine, Sam. Jack wouldn't hurt me."

"Of course he wouldn't. It's just . . . well . . . You don't really do much sparring, Daniel."

"What? You think I can't hold my own?"

"I didn't say that."

"Come on, Jack is waiting. The quicker we get this over with the sooner we can come back and get something to eat."

"I hope you know what you're doing, Daniel."

"It'll be fine."

We walk into the gym, to find Jack, geared up and bouncing around the ring like Tigger. I can't stop the smile that crosses my face as I can just hear Jack saying, 'I'm Tigger! T-I-Double Guh-ER.' 

"All set, Danny boy?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Sir, are you sure about this? Maybe Teal'c would be a better sparring partner."

"I would be glad to spar with you, O'Neill."

"No offense, big guy, but I remember the last time we sparred." Jack unconsciously reaches up to rub his nose.

"Guys, it's fine. I can spar with Jack."

_I can't believe I'm trying to talk Sam and Teal'c into letting me do this. Talk me out of it. Talk me out of it. _I head for the locker room, quickly changing into something suitable for getting beat up. _Honestly, the thought that I'm choosing to do something I spent my days in elementary school avoiding, boggles the mind._

"Let's go, Daniel. We don't have all day."

"Alright, alright, I'm right here."

"OK, now you keep your gloves up, bend your knees . . ."

"You must dance, Daniel Jackson."

"WHAT?!" I turn around to look at Teal'c. _He SO did not just say what I thought he said._

"He means move around, Daniel, otherwise you're a target."

"Oh, alright then." Turning a wary eye back to Jack, I have a frightening flash of Teal'c and Jack dancing in the sparring ring. *shudder*

"OK, anytime you're ready, Danny boy."

I force myself not to tell Jack my name is Daniel, not Danny boy. I know it makes him feel better and is just a sign of affection, but seriously, I'm 35 years old ForCryinOutLoud. _OK, I didn't think that_ . . ._ I've gotta stop hanging around Jack._

Jack is bouncing around the ring, circling me. I refuse to jump up and down like that. He throws the first punch, which I block. I have learned a thing or two from him after all this time. I'm just glad I wore my contacts today so that I can actually see his punches as they come at me.

I hear Sam and Teal'c murmuring outside the ring. I think I might actually have surprised them by having not yet been knocked on my ass. My heart rate is increasing as Jack and I continue to spar. I find myself starting to get into it, and I begin to bob and weave like a pro. 

I can see from the corner of my eye that Ferretti has noticed Jack and I sparring and is making his way towards Sam and Teal'c. Ferretti is a good guy. He's got a sense of humor like Jack, but I don't hold that against him.

"That's it, Daniel, you're doing great."

I smile as Sam cheers me on. I think it's beginning to bug Jack though. I have a feeling he thought I was going to be a push over. Maybe after losing to Teal'c all the time his ego needed a little boost. _Sorry, Jack, not going to happen._ He begins to move faster around the ring, his punches coming quicker and with more force.

"Who's winning?"

"Well, Daniel's holding his own, but I think the Colonel has gotten more punches in."

"Think Daniel can beat him?"

"I'm not sure, maybe. He's been working out a lot more recently, I think he might have a good chance."

"Care to make a wager?"

I can't believe Ferretti is trying to get Sam to gamble, and on base at that. I know Sam will say no though. She'd never do anything like that.

"10 bucks on Daniel." _She's betting!_

"Alright, I'll take 10 on the Colonel. Teal'c?"

"I would also like to wager 10 dollars on O'Neill." 

"I'll take 10 on Daniel." _Who was that?_

I can't believe they're betting on us! More and more of the personnel in the gym are gathering, Ferretti playing the good little bookie. My concentration is being distracted as more and more gather. Jack seems to have blocked it out.

"Come on, Daniel. You can do it. Get those gloves up!"

Sam is yelling at me as if she were my trainer. I return my attention to Tigger and try and get a few of my own punches in. I've been mostly blocking so far but find myself needing to prove to our spectators that I'm not geeky Doctor Jackson. Besides, I don't want Sam to lose her money.

I pull back my arm, letting it fly back, solidly colliding with Jack's stomach. He doubles over and I'm both amazed I hit him, and worried I hurt him. Dropping my hands I bend to ask Jack if he's ok when I feel his fist connect with my chin. I stumble backwards, tripping on the mat. The next thing I see is the turnbuckle as my face, or more precisely my forehead, smashes into it. Sliding to the ring, I already feel the headache coming.

"Daniel!" Jack is beside me, worrying etching his features. Everything begins to get dark as I hear myself begin to mumble _'The wonderful thing about Tiggers, is Tiggers a wonderful thing. Their tops are made outta rubba, their bottoms are made outta springs.'_

I knew this was a bad idea.

****


	4. Day Four: Janet

_Day Four: Janet______

(This part written by Layton Colt)

"Janet, please! I'm fine! Absolutely fine. I've been here all night, can't I go now?" 

As the large blue eyes stare pleadingly at me, I have to fight the urge to roll my own. I'm a mother. I have a heart of steel when it comes to ignoring the pleading looks--at least, when the health of the one looking at me is at stake. And the large purpling bruise on his forehead only further strengthens my resolve. 

"Daniel, you have a concussion," I say patiently. "I want to keep you here for a few more hours, at least." 

"Well can I at least--"

"No," I cut him off. "You cannot have any work brought here." 

He glares at me. "That's not what I was going to ask," he tells me, using the kind of self-important tone that I hear every from Cassie every time she tells me she doesn't need a curfew. 

I smile pleasantly, and hold his chart to my chest. "Okay," I say with false cheer. "What were you going to ask?" 

He pulls his eyes away from mine. He doesn't answer. He was going to ask to have his work brought to him and we both know it. 

"Hey, kids!" 

I turn as the Colonel comes strolling into my infirmary and narrow my eyes. "Colonel," I snap by way of a greeting. 

He gives me an assessing look, before moving his gaze to Daniel. I notice he softens considerably as he reaches him. "How are you doing?" he asks.

"He's restless, sir," I say. "It's so horrible to have him hurt in such an *avoidable* accident." 

The Colonel almost has the good grace to look ashamed. Almost. 

"I brought you some cookies," he says, turning to Daniel. "Carter was going to make some of those chocolate walnut ones--but I thought that I should because this is--kind of--my fault . . ."

Kind of? I think, just as Daniel vocalizes it. 

"KIND OF?" he repeats dangerously. 

"Well," the Colonel says. "It WAS your idea, Daniel." 

"That's it!" Daniel shouts, ripping the IV out of his hand. "I want a rematch, O'Neill. Right here, right now!" 

I move swiftly between them, glaring at the mess Daniel has made of his hand. "Colonel, could you please take your cookies and leave? I'm already treating him for a concussion, I don't want to have to treat him for food poisoning as well." 

I look at Daniel's expression as he glares at the Colonel. Or for a heart attack. 

I give the Colonel a look, and he starts to back up towards the doors. Then I turn to Daniel. "What were you thinking?" I ask, quickly moving the IV to his other hand. 

"Tigger is going down," he tells me gravely. "Oh yes. He is." 

Tigger? This concussion might be more serious than I thought. I reach for my penlight.  He tries to swat my hand away, but I grab his chin and quickly check his pupils. 

Satisfied he was getting better, and not worse, I returned my penlight to my coat pocket. And then patted it reverently. 

"Dr. Frasier?" 

I turned to look at Nurse Carey. "Yes?" 

"Colonel O'Neill is waiting in your office, ma'am. He says he needs to speak with you." 

I sighed. "Tell him I'll be there in a minute."

Carey nodded and headed off to deliver the message. I turned to face Daniel. Daniel was an angel compared to certain other patients--but if you leave him alone too long he tends to wander off. 

From what I hear, Colonel O'Neill has had this problem too. 

"Don't move from this bed, Daniel," I warn him. 

He gives me a sweet little smile, and I swear he batted his eyelashes. "Would I do that, Janet?" 

"Yes." 

He gives me an insulted look. 

I point my finger at him. "Don't move," I said again. 

He nods. I don't trust him for a second--but I can't very well just keep my superior waiting.

When I enter the office, I see Colonel O'Neill, savior of Earth, liaison to the Asgaard, trying to balance a quarter on his nose. 

"Sir?" 

His head snaps up and the quarter goes toppling to the floor. 

"Dr. Frasier," he says. 

"I move around the desk to sit in my chair. "What was it you needed, Colonel?" 

"Daniel--he's okay, isn't he?" 

I smiled. "He'll be fine, sir." My smile falters a little. "He's had worse." 

The Colonel nods and flashes me a rueful grin. "Not by me, though." 

"Colonel, if I'm remembering correctly, Teal'c has knocked you out when the two of you were sparring. I wish you--the both of you--had been more careful, but it was an accident."

"Of course it was," he snaps. 

"Colonel, why don't you just go visit him again--without agitating him this time if it is at all possible--and apologize." 

He makes a face at the last part. I remind myself rolling my eyes at a superior is insubordination. 

"Alright," he says finally. Then he stood and left the office. I follow him out.

When we return to the infirmary, Teal'c and Sam are standing beside Daniel's bed. 

Daniel's EMPTY bed. 

  
"Colonel--" I begin. 

"I'm on it," he says, before promptly jogging out of the door. 

Sam frowns. "Are you alright, Janet?" she asks me. 

"Fine. I'm fine. You two should probably go help the Colonel." 

Sam bites her lip to hold back a smile and nods, beside her, Teal'c inclines his head. 

I walk them to the door, and watch them start down the hall. Then I snagged the first airman I saw. 

"I want you to put four monitors in my office, and hook them up to the cameras in SG-1's quarters."

"Yes, Ma'am," The young man nods. 

I lean back against the wall and sigh. SG-1 was every Doctor's nightmare--but god help me, I don't know what I would do without them. 

Only moments later the Colonel was heading towards me, a sullen Daniel in tow. 

"Janet--I don't see why--"

I held up a hand. I was tempted to keep him here the rest of the day, just to get back at him, but the truth was, he probably was fine--and I was probably being overprotective. 

"You can go, Daniel," I tell him. "But I want you to go to your quarters and rest."

He nods eagerly. "Of course, Janet."

He didn't fool me for a second. I waved him off anyway. The only way I was going to get him to rest was to tie him to the bed. And I knew from experience that didn't always work either. 

"Come on, buddy," I hear the Colonel say cheerfully. "Let's get you to your quarters so you can rest." 

Daniel pushes away his supporting hand and glares at him. "My fault?" he growls. 

Jack winces. "Well, it was mostly my fault," he says. "And a little Ferretti's. But certainly not at all your fault."

Daniel's eyes narrow as he tries to gauge his sincerity. 

"Come on, Daniel. We're stuck here together. You can't stay mad at me for long. You might as well give in." 

Daniel sighs, and Jack smiles smugly before ushering him down the hall. 

I trudged on back in the infirmary and began my rounds. Lt. Baker had a broken arm--and Meyers from SG-6 was in with a staff wound to the leg. And then there was SG-11 . . . 

It was hours later when I finally made it back to my office and collapsed into my chair. I was surprised to see all the monitors already in place, neatly labeled O'Neill, Jackson, Carter and Teal'c. I reached over and flipped on Daniel's monitor first. I knew he wouldn't be resting, but part of me still held a small portion of hope. 

My eyes widen as I take in the images on the screen. Daniel and Sam's legs and arms were all twisted together, and Teal'c was leaning precariously over both of them. The Colonel was balancing carefully beside Daniel, his weight resting on a hand that had been placed between Teal'c's legs. 

I rested my head in my hands, and resisted the urge to bang it against the desk. 

I send Daniel off with orders to rest--and he plays Twister. 

My attention was turned back to the screen as my speakers erupted with laughter. The team had all collapsed in a heap atop the mat. I smiled. I suppose I could let them off the hook this one time. 

After all, they do say laughter is the best medicine. 


	5. Day Five: Teal'c

_Day Five: Teal'c_____

(This part written by both of us)

The Tauri are a strange people indeed. This game, this 'Twister' is most intriguing. I along with the rest of SG-1 spent the previous night with this game. Though amusing, I'm not sure I wish to play it again. 

We travel through the Stargate so that we may fight to defeat the Goa'uld. However, I find when we are not currently on a mission, the members of SG1 revert back to their pre-adult selves. Daniel Jackson and O'Neill much more so than Major Carter.

This game of Twister for example. It is not something I would have believed mature humans to enjoy taking part in. However, it seems that these 'games' serve to bond friendships here on Earth. Unlike O'Neill's game of sparring which does little more than serve to injure one of the participants as he did to Daniel Jackson yesterday. Something that disturbs me greatly even now. I cannot comprehend why he would use his advantage in the match to cause Daniel Jackson such harm. 

I am ashamed to have taken part in Major Ferretti's betting. I received my winnings but they are tainted. I feel I must find Daniel Jackson and apologize. It seems that Daniel Jackson has already forgiven O'Neill. But I believe, on this occasion, Daniel Jackson may have been too quick to forgive O'Neill.

I rise to my feet and head towards Daniel Jackson's office. As I suspected, he is there, working at his desk--despite Dr. Frasier's orders for him to rest. And he is taking a sip of coffee from his mug--despite Dr. Frasier's orders for him to consume no caffeine. He can at times be as stubborn as O'Neill. Doctor Fraiser's orders are meant to help their bodies heal, and yet they disregard them. 

I step into Daniel Jackson's office, he has yet to notice my presence. "Daniel Jackson."

He looks up at me distractedly, before his eyes roll back down to the book laying open on his desk. "Oh, hi, Teal'c." 

"Are you not supposed to be resting as per Doctor Fraiser's orders?"

"She told me to rest last night." 

"You did not."

Daniel Jackson looks up then. "I did a little." 

I raise my eyebrow. "I believe Doctor Fraiser intended you to rest more than 'a little'."

"Well, I'd already rested a lot. In the infirmary," he tells me. 

"I see." I know not to try and argue with Daniel Jackson about such matters. The result is always the same.

"Um . . . did you need something else, Teal'c? Because I'm kind of--" 

"I have come seeking your forgiveness, Daniel Jackson."

He frowns. "My . . . what? Why?"

I walk towards his desk, placing the 50 dollars I had won in front of him. "I am ashamed of my actions yesterday, Daniel Jackson." 

Daniel Jackson looks at the money in confusion. "You didn't do anything, Teal'c . . ."

"I should not have placed a wager against you, nor should I have allowed O'Neill to harm you."

"We were sparring, Teal'c. Sometimes people get hurt. Jack does all the time."

"He took advantage of your concern for him."

Daniel Jackson winces. "I'm sure he just wanted to remind me not to let my guard down during battle." 

"Perhaps."

He pushes his book aside and meets my gaze. "You have nothing to apologize for, Teal'c, but if it will make you feel better--then I forgive you. And I'm not taking your money." 

"Thank you, Daniel Jackson. I will leave you to rest." I turn to leave, knowing he will not, purposely leaving the money on his desk.

"Teal'c!" Daniel Jackson calls after me, but I do not turn. 

I spend much time on this base--and so the confinement here has not been as hard on me as it has on the others. Or I should say, as it has been on O'Neill. However, I find I am at a loss as to what I should do. I walk down the halls in search of O'Neill, I am sure to find him not currently occupied.

I reach his quarters and knock, waiting for him to beckon me inside. Opening the door, I find O'Neill again playing with this child's toy he calls a yo-yo. "Hey, T, what's up?"

I frown. As usual, O'Neill makes little sense. Unsure of the proper response to such an obvious question, I choose to ignore it. "Do you wish to join me in a sparring match, O'Neill?" I ask as I clasp my hands behind my back. 

O'Neill looks at me with a critical eye. I believe he is unsure of my intentions. "Um . . . sure. Winner buys pizza as soon as we're sprung?" 

"Is it not the custom that the loser should buy the pizza, O'Neill?" I ask. 

"Alright, fine. I'll buy the pizza." O'Neill tosses the yo-yo onto his desk. 

I smile. "You may yet win a match against me, O'Neill." This was not necessarily true. 

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeahseryoubetcha." He then stands and I turn to lead the way to the gym. 

"The bruise on Daniel Jackson's forehead is quite large," I say casually. 

"Yeah, that turnbuckle is pretty hard."

"Especially when thrown into it with such force," I say. My tone has become considerably less casual. 

"He wasn't thrown, Teal'c, he tripped."

"He tripped because he was thrown, O'Neill." 

"He tripped because he let his guard down and was tapped by my glove."

"O'Neill, are you suggesting that Daniel Jackson is to blame for his injury?" I ask darkly. 

"What? No, of course not," he quickly responds. He is again looking at me warily. 

"If Daniel Jackson is not to blame, O'Neill--then who do you believe is?" 

"No one is to blame really, Teal'c. I mean it was kind of Daniel's idea to spar, but I admit I was a little caught up in what I was doing, I saw the opening and took it. I didn't mean to actually have Daniel get hurt."

One part of O'Neill's ramblings stand out and I raise an eyebrow. "It was Daniel Jackson's idea to spare?" I find this extremely hard to believe. 

"OK well, maybe he didn't say he wanted to spar, but technically I didn't ask him to."

"Indeed." I do believe that O'Neill would not ask. He probably told Daniel Jackson that they would spar. 

"And no, I didn't tell him we had to spar. I know what you're thinking, Teal'c," he comments as he begins to change into his sparring clothes. "Daniel needs to get in a little more training, it's good for him, better than sitting in that stuffy office surrounded by all those dusty rocks."

"I believe the only thing Daniel Jackson has learned from this--is to be wary of sparring with you," I say. 

"Oh I think he's learned a little more than that, like never letting his guard down." I see a small smirk on O'Neill's face as he bends to tie his shoes. 

We finish putting on our gear and enter the ring. O'Neill immediately begins to bounce on the balls of his feet. Hitting the air with his gloves. "OK, Teal'c, whenever you're ready." 

I hit him swiftly, connecting with his side. I am ready. 

O'Neill begins to move around the ring. He is blocking some of my punches, but has yet to have the opportunity to try to hit me. I smile in satisfaction. I see Daniel Jackson enter through the door, he walks quietly over to watch. O'Neill seems unaware of his entrance. "Come on, Teal'c, that all you got?" O'Neill is obviously being sarcastic. I am tempted to end this quickly, but Daniel Jackson seems to be enjoying the fight. 

As O'Neill moves to strike out Daniel Jackson shouts, "Get those gloves up, Tigger!" O'Neill is both startled and confused by Daniel Jackson. He turns slightly to see where Daniel Jackson's voice has come from.

I hit him squarely on the jaw, and he goes tumbling backwards onto the mat. Daniel Jackson grins at O'Neill smugly, then begins to hum and sing a tune I am unfamiliar with. ". . . their tops are made outta rubba, their bottoms are made outta springs . . ." He gives O'Neill a finger wave, and O'Neill cranes his head to glare at his retreating back as he heads out the door. 

I look down at the man sprawled at my feet, trying not to smile. "You should not have let your guard down, O'Neill." __


	6. Day Six: Jack

_Day Six: Jack____

(This part written by FCOL)

It's Daniel's fault. I never would have been distracted if he hadn't shouted to me. I wouldn't be surprised if he and Teal'c planned the whole thing. He's lucky that I had things to do after the sparring match last night. Today though, well, today I have plenty of time to 'speak' to Danny boy, away from his Jaffa protector.

I reach his lab, opening the door without knocking. There he is, as usual, with his nose buried in some dusty old book. Is it any wonder the man has allergies? He hasn't noticed me, again. I walk up quietly behind him, glancing over his shoulder to see what he's working on.

"Whatcha doin'?" He almost falls off his chair as he jumps at my question.

"Jack! What the hell are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" _Ouch. That bruise looks nasty._

"Again I say, whatcha doin'?"

"Counting, what does it look like?" _I don't know where he gets his sarcasm._

"Nice little chunk of change there, Danny boy, rob a bank?"

"Uh, no. Teal'c gave it to me."

"Teal'c? Why would Teal'c give you money? Where did Teal'c get the money?" I'm definitely curious now. I slide onto the stool beside Daniel, waiting for an explanation. The smug look on his face tells me I don't really want to know.

"It's the money he won from the bet."

"What?"

"He felt guilty, gave me the money he won betting on you."

"I didn't get any money." _Note to self: pay a visit to Ferretti._

"You didn't bet, Jack."

"Neither did you."

"Yes, but I'm the one that ended up with the concussion."

"That wasn't my fault." _Technically.___

"I didn't say it was." 

"You implied it."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"Didn't."

"Did." _You so did bindi boy._

"Didn't."

"I think I should get half of that money, I did win after all."

"Not a chance, Jack."

I glare at Daniel, he rolls his eyes, pocketing the money. This is definitely not fair. How is it that he manages to not only get everyone's sympathy for tripping on his own feet, as well as get the money that Teal'c got from _me_ winning? The boy must have a horse shoe shoved up his . . .

"Something else I can do for you, Jack?"

"Besides giving me my share of the winnings?"

"I've got some work to do, Jack, maybe Sam would be better company?"

_I can take a hint._ I get up, moving towards the door. I hear Daniel mumbled more to himself than to me, "Ta Ta For Now." Maybe he did hit his head a little too hard. I make my way through the halls intent on finding the resident SGC bookie.

"Hello, Ferretti." I grin in satisfaction at the jump he makes hearing my voice. It's nice to know that I can still intimidate people, since it doesn't seem to work with my team anymore.

"Jack! What can I do for you?" _He seems a little nervous._

"Oh, nothing much. I was in the mood for a little gambling and your name came to mind. Wonder why that is?"

"Uh, how's Daniel doin' Colonel?"

"Oh, Danny boy is just peachy. He's sitting in his office at the moment counting."

"Counting?"

"Money."

"Oh?"_ He looks confused. No Ferretti, you didn't give Daniel any money._

"Teal'c felt guilty."

I see the light go off, he understands now. "Ah."

"Yeah, so I was just thinking, it seems a little unfair that Daniel lost and gets something, while I win and get nothing, besides grief from everyone for hurting Daniel, which I didn't do. Technically."

"That does seem a little unfair." His phone rings, and he dives for it, desperate for anything to get him out of this conversation.

"Yes Sir, I'll be right there." _Damn._

"I'm sorry, Colonel, I have to see the General." _*Sigh* There goes my fun._

"Go ahead, Lou."

"See you later, Jack," he calls as he quickly disappears down the hall. _Yes, I believe you will._

Heading out of Ferretti's office, I make my way towards Carter's lab. As I turn the corner I almost collide with our assertive, 5 foot nothing, CMO.

"Colonel," she briskly addresses me. 

"Doctor."

"Have you checked on Doctor Jackson this morning?" She asks me accusingly, as if I were a child that forgot to feed my puppy. _Why do people always assume it's my job to take care of Daniel?_

"As a matter of fact I have."

"Is he getting rest and eating?"

"Doc, I'm not Daniel's keeper."

"With all due respect, Colonel, you are the reason Daniel needs to be checked on. I seem to recall treating him for a concussion 2 days ago that resulted from him sparring with you." She gives me that 'don't mess with me, I've got needles' look.

"That wasn't my fault!"

"Whose idea was it to spar?"

"OK, technically it was NOT my idea."

"Right. Have you checked on Daniel?"

"Yes, Doc. He's fine, counting his ill gotten gains."

"His what?!"

"Nothing . . . I'm just on my way to see Carter. He's fine, Doc, promise. I'll even go back and make sure he's eating something other than chocolate." I smile sweetly hoping it's enough to get the Doc to stop staring at me like I'm the devil incarnate.

She gives me an appraising look and then nods her head, turning and clicking off down the hall. She can be pretty scary when she's pissed. _Note to self: Stay away from Doc for a few days._

I continue on my way to Carter's lab hoping that she's in a better mood than everyone else has been so far this morning. I walk in, without knocking, and see she's deep in concentration on some doohickey.

"Hey, Carter!" She jumps and drops her doohickey. I'm horrified as I watch it crash to the floor in slow motion, erupting into a million pieces. _Aw crap. _She turns accusing eyes on me. _Oops._

"Oh man, I'm sorry, Carter. Here let me help you." I bend to pick up the pieces of what I hope was not some life altering doohickey. _Maybe it was just some leggo or something. No wait, there's no leggo here, it's all in my office._

"Colonel! Stop, please!" I look up at her, she looks even more upset than before. I realize a little too late that I'm now kneeling on, and crushing part of whatever she dropped. _Why do I even bother getting up in the morning? _I get up quickly, taking a step back and away from all her toys.

"I'm sorry, Carter, I didn't mean to startle you, or you know . . ." I gesture to the mess on the floor. 

Sighing she bends to pick up the pieces. "It's alright, Colonel. I'm sure I can try and put it back together."

"I could help. "

"NO! I mean, no thank you, Sir." 

"If you're sure . . . have you had any luck figuring out that device you and Daniel were working on?"

"Not yet, Sir, we kind of got behind when Daniel ended up in the infirmary." She looks at me as she says this and I get the distinct impression she's placing the blame on me. _It wasn't my fault!_

"Ah."

"How's Daniel this morning, Sir?"

"Why does everyone ask ME that?"

"You haven't gone to see him?" She's got that accusing tone again.

"Yes, Carter, I have. Daniel is fine. I'm alright too by the way, thanks for asking. Daniel is currently counting the money that he got from Teal'c."

"For what?"

"The money Teal'c got from Ferretti when I won." She frowns. I have a feeling that I really should have just stayed in my quarters today.

"Well, Daniel WAS the one that ended up in the infirmary, Sir."

"How many times do I have to say that wasn't my fault?!"

"You knew Daniel wasn't as experienced at sparring . . . Sir." I don't fail to notice the pause before she says Sir. _I really let them get away with too much._

"Look, Carter, technically it's not my fault that Daniel dropped his guard."

"Yes, Sir." She's got that dismissive tone now. This is all Daniel's fault. "I should probably get back to work on this, Sir." She turns her back and begins trying to put her doohickey back together. I shake my head, turning from the room. Daniel has everyone on this base under some kind of spell. He's got them all thinking he's this sweet, innocent, angel. Pfffph! _I hope his halo doesn't choke him._

Making my way quickly through the winding hallways, I find myself back at Daniel's office. Walking in once again without knocking, I march over to his side, glaring at him. He's reading squiggles on some tablet in front of him, he hasn't even looked up yet.

"Ahem."

"Just place it on the desk, thanks. Oh and could you close the door on your way out?"

"No, Daniel, I can't."

"Jack! What are you doing, trying to give me a heart attack?"

"You've already asked me that once today, Daniel. It was established that I'm not trying to give you a heart attack, although I'm not opposed to choking you, if your halo doesn't beat me to it."

"What are you talking about?" He looks at me as if I'm crazy. I'm not crazy, I'm the only sane one on this base.

"You've got everyone fooled by your act, Danny boy, but not me. I see right through it."

"What act?"

"This angel boy act you've got going on."

"Ok, you've lost me."

"I wish."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that thanks to you and your hurt little puppy routine, not only do I have the Doc pissed off at me but Carter and Teal'c. I'm sure you've gotten to others on the base but luckily I haven't seen anyone other than them and Ferretti, and Ferretti has the good grace to still be intimidated by me. I'm just glad I didn't run into Hammond, you've got him under this spell too haven't you? With my luck I'd be scrubbing floors by supper."

"Jack, were you sparring with Teal'c again today?"

"And that's another thing! I wouldn't put it past you to have set yesterday's events up with Teal'c beforehand. I never would have been distracted if you hadn't snuck up on me shouting something about a tiger."

"That's Tigger."

"Whatever . . . wait . . . what??"

"What?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I could be and have been asking you the same question. Are you feeling alright, Jack?"

"Don't play nice with me, Daniel."

"*Sigh* Fine, Jack, I won't be nice."

"You're damn right you won't be, I mean you aren't . . . I . . ."

"Yes?"

"Shut up, Daniel!" I storm from his office, intent on locking myself in my quarters for the rest of the day. I never should have left them.

Walking into my room, I slam the door shut behind me locking it. They can't blame me if they can't find me. I flop on the bed, reaching for my gameboy. _Good ole' gameboy, you won't desert me._ I flip the power button only to get a blank screen. The batteries are dead. _Et Tu, Mario?_

I bury my head in my pillow, this day just keeps getting better and better._ OK, Jack, calm down, go to your happy place._ I grin as I picture the wicked witch of the west melting. _Funny, she looks decidedly like bindi boy._ My grin grows wider. 

I must have dosed off as the next thing I know I hear someone banging on my door. _Enough already, ForCryinOutLoud.__ I'm awake._ Groaning I sit up in bed, swinging my legs to the floor. I hear voices outside my door that sound a lot like Daniel telling Teal'c something . . . no . . . they wouldn't.

I jump from my bed, hurrying towards the door. _Dammit, I wasn't THAT asleep._ Just as I reach for the knob, the door is flung open wildly, Teal'c crashing into my room. I promptly land on my ass, cracking my head off the side of the bed, as both the door and Teal'c decide to use my body for target practice. I groan as Teal'c and Daniel's faces come swimming into view. I swear I can see black and orange cats bouncing around Daniel's head. 

"Jack! Jack, are you alright? Quick, Teal'c, call Janet."

I feel like I'm falling, and can't stop myself from mumbling as the room grows dark, "What a world! What a world!"

Groaning I reach up to rub away the tension headache I have. Daniel should come with a bottle of pain meds. As I touch the back of my head, I yank my hand away quickly, hissing from the pain. Cracking my eyes open, I promptly shut them again. _OK, this is wrong._ Trying again, I'm forced to face facts. I'm in the infirmary. _Damn._

"Nice of you to join us, Colonel." Fraiser is swaying in front of me and I'm tempted to ask her if it's that good a song, when I realize there is no music. _That can't be good._

"You know me, always aim to please."

"Do you remember what happened, Sir?" _Good question. Hmmm let's see. I remember Mario leaving me high and dry_ . . . _Daniel melting_ . . . _yelling_ . . . _Ah yes! Note to self: Start an SGC football league. Recruit Teal'c._

"Unfortunately yes."

"You took a nasty hit. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got tackled by Teal'c." She smiles. Well, maybe this isn't too bad after all. At least Janet isn't looking at me like a pin cushion anymore.

I hear a commotion in the hallway and watch as Janet once again walks away from me. In moments my team walks in, all looking a little repentant. Finally. Teal'c looks thoroughly sorry for having almost tackled me through the wall, Carter doesn't look as upset over her doohickey anymore, and Daniel . . . well . . . at least his bruise is starting to fade.

"How are you feeling, O'Neill." 

"Not bad, considering."

"I apologize for injuring you." 

"Hey, it's alright, T. Although, I wouldn't mind knowing why you broke down my door."

"We had been calling for you and knocking on the door, Jack. You weren't answering. We'd looked everywhere on base so knew you had to be in your quarters. We thought something had happened to you."

"Yes . . . something." I absently rub the lump forming on the back of my head. At least I didn't get a contusion.

"Well, Sir, you're all set. As long as you take it easy, you're free to go."

"What?!"

"Sir?"

"I get hit by a door, tackled by a Jaffa, crack my head off of the base of my bed, and you're letting me go?! Daniel gets a little bump on his forehead and you keep him in overnight for observation!"

"Sir, Daniel had a concussion."

"And me?!"

"I'm afraid all you have, Colonel, is a few bruises and a bump on the head."

"OhForCryinOutLoud!" I throw my legs over the side of the bed, sliding to my feet. Steadying myself, I brush off their hands of assistance. If they aren't worried about me enough to keep me here for observation, I definitely don't need them holding me up.

"Jack, here let me help you."

"Don't touch me, bindi boy!" I walk, albeit a little wobbly, out of the infirmary and back towards my quarters. This has been a day for the record books. Score another one for angel boy, as long as he's alright who cares about anyone else. 

Reaching my quarters, I see just how much damage Teal'c managed to inflict on my poor door. Grabbing a few items from my room, I head towards the nearest VIP suite. _No way I'm staying in there now._

It took a little bullying, but being the 2IC of this base I have a little drag. I open the door and sigh in satisfaction. My very own VIP suite. TV, VCR, fridge, shower/bath, queen sized bed. _Oh yeah, this is the life. All I need now is a little pizza, beer and a hockey game and I could almost forget this day ever happened_ . . . _almost. _Flipping the TV on, I pop my tape into the VCR. Crawling into the middle of the bed I settle in for an evening of chips, pop and Homer.

Halfway through the first tape I hear a knock on the door. Quickly hitting mute, I hold my breath hoping whoever it is will go away.

"Come on, Jack, I know you're in there, I heard Homer yelling." _Crap._

"Go away, Daniel, I'm sleeping."

"Right, then why are you talking?"

"I'm talking in my sleep, now go away."

"I'm not going anywhere until you open the door."

Groaning, I roll off the bed. I've resigned myself to the fact that Daniel will camp outside the door drawing attention to himself and giving me an even worse headache if I don't let him in. Whipping the door open, I end up with a bundle of archeologist in my arms, knocking me once again to the floor.

"Dammit, Daniel, what the hell are you doing?"

"I was trying to hear if you were coming to open the door. I guess you were." He smiles, a little embarrassed. 

"Yes, I was. Do you think maybe you could get off me?" 

"Sorry. Here let me help you up?"

"I'm fine. What do you want, Daniel?" I manage to get to my feet without swaying, and walk over shutting the door.

"I wanted to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine, Daniel, didn'tcha hear Fraiser?" I walk back to the bed, resuming my high caloric intake. I'm tempted to turn my Simpsons marathon back on but know the humor would be lost on Daniel. He'd probably try and explain to me how the episode was a metaphor for some world issue. I don't like mixing my cartoons with my politics.

"That's not what I meant, Jack." _Oh no, please not a talk about my feelings. Someone kill me now . . . or better yet . . . Thor? buddy??_

"Daniel, I don't want to have to hurt you."

"Again?"

"That was NOT my fault!!"

"I know, TECHNICALLY it wasn't your fault."

"Thank you!! Try telling that to everyone else on base."

"I was being sarcastic, Jack."

"What?"

"It was completely your fault!"

I glare at him. I'm hurt, have a goose egg on the back of my head the size of my fist, have Teal'c's shoulder imprinted onto my stomach, and he's standing here, actually standing here, blaming me for what happened 2 days ago!?!?! _I will not kill him. I will not kill him._

"You do know this all could have been avoided if you had just come and eaten pie with Sam, Teal'c and I."

I refuse to listen anymore. I can't kill Daniel. They'd probably lynch me right there in the 'gateroom if I tried. I hit play and grin as Homer choking Bart drowns out Daniel's rant. I know Hammond would have me washing the gate with a toothbrush for the rest of my life if I tried that. 

Daniel makes some noise of resignation as he crawls onto the bed beside me. We don't say anything else. He grabs the bag of chips and a chocolate bar._ Looks like he's planning on staying._ I'm about to comment on him having work to do when my favorite episode starts. All thoughts of Daniel are pushed to the back of my mind.

As the last of the credits begin to roll, I turn my eyes to Daniel, about to tell him he should go back to his quarters. It's almost 1:30 a.m. My words die before they pass my lips. There beside me, curled into a ball, glasses askew, is Doctor Daniel Jackson, sound asleep.

Rolling my eyes and sighing, I remove the junk food from the bed, Daniel's glasses from his face and throw a blanket over him. I quickly change and climb into bed, only one more day until things get back to normal. One more day! I don't know if I can wait that long.

TBC--- __


	7. Day Seven: Daniel

_Day Seven: Daniel______

(This part written by Layton Colt)

I wake up to a muted and unpleasant noise. Ugh. Did I drink last night? I put my hand up to my face and find a candy bar wrapper stuck to the side of my head. Then I place the noise. The same noise that usually wakes me up on off world missions. I turn my head, and see Jack, his legs falling off the side of the bed, mouth open as he snores.

I quickly jump from the bed. Sleeping all night in your commander's quarters is probably frowned upon on a military base. I start for the door, glad to see Jack is still sleeping, and grabbed up another Fifth Avenue before sliding out the door. 

Sam and Teal'c are standing on the other side. 

"Uh . . ." My voice falters. Even linguists can be speechless. 

Sam grins at me. "Daniel," she says. "What are you doing?" 

"I was watching the Simpsons," I blurt. 

Teal'c raises an eyebrow. Sam's grin widens. "We were looking for you," she tells me. "When we couldn't find you, we thought we would ask the Colonel. These are his quarters, aren't they?"

"Yes, but you can't go in there. He's sleeping."

Now both Sam's eyebrows are shooting upwards. "Okay, then," Sam drawls. "I won't ask," she tells me with a wink. 

Teal'c doesn't pick up on the innuendo. I wish I didn't either. I run a hand over my face. 

"Long night?" Sam asks with a sweet smile. 

She was never going to let me live this down. 

"You were looking for me," I say. "You need something?" 

Sam brings her grin under control. "Yes, I was wondering if you could get back to translating the device yet? Are you feeling up to it?" 

I nodded blurrily, belatedly realizing I wasn't wearing my glasses. I pat down my pockets, but they aren't there. 

"Daniel?" Sam queries. 

"I can't find my glasses, I must have--" I trail off, looking at the door to Jack's quarters with dread.  

I roll my eyes up towards the ceiling, then turned back around and opened the door, Teal'c and Sam are right behind me, much to my horror. 

Jack is still sleeping, though he had moved himself to the center of the bed now, and was curled up clutching his pillow. Sam made 'aww' sounds. Jack was going to kill me if he woke up.

Teal'c was staring at Jack with amusement. Neither of them were helping me find my glasses. "Guys," I whispered. "A little help?" 

"I don't want to go to school," Jack murmurs. "I want to be a super hero." 

Sam clamps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. And Teal'c's eyebrow has shot to maximum height. I spotted my glasses and grabbed them. 

"Let's go," I whispered. 

Sam looked quite content where she was. She was even leaning in so she could hear Jack better as he talked in his sleep. "Sam," I started. 

"I don't want a cat, I want the bunny rabbit . . ."

I could see she was about to lose it. I grabbed her arm and started to push her to the door, just as Jack shot up from the bed, reaching a hand to his hip for a gun that wasn't there. 

"What the hell?" he snaps. 

Sam straightens to attention. Teal'c remains unaffected. I fall against the wall and place my head in my hands. 

"What are you all doing in here?" he snaps. Then he realizes he's still holding the pillow like a security blanket and tosses it to the side. "Well?" he demands. 

"I was getting my glasses," I say at last. "I couldn't find them so Teal'c and Sam came into help." 

I glare at my 'helpers.' They stare back but look unrepentant. 

"You brought them in here?" Jack hisses. 

"Well," I say, flashing Jack a quick smile. "TECHNICALLY, they came in all on their own." 

Sam looks slightly guilty now--but I doubt that will keep her from telling Janet everything. Teal'c still hasn't changed expression, but his eyebrow remained halfway up his forehead. 

"OUT!" he shouts. 

When none of us move immediately, he glares. "Now! OUT!" 

Teal'c turns smoothly on his heel and heads into the hallway, Sam lowers her gaze, fights off a return case of the giggles, and jogs out. I back up towards the door, snatching up another Fifth Avenue. 

He glares at me, and puts his arm out straight, pointing to the door. 

I can take a hint. I slip into the hallway and shut the door behind me. Sam is waiting at the end of the hallway. "You ready to go?" 

I sigh. Sam wouldn't be in trouble over this, because Jack would never confront Sam about her seeing him asleep and muttering about bunny rabbits. He wouldn't be confronting Teal'c about it either. Which left me. 

I know Jack believed yesterday that everyone was out to get him--and it seemed I was the chosen target for today.

"Daniel?" Sam says impatiently. 

"I'm coming," I tell her. I catch up to her, handing over one of my candy bars to her as we make our way to her lab. 

"Where's Teal'c?" I ask. 

"He went ahead to the gym, he's giving a self defense class to the civilians on base." 

I nodded. I was just glad I was no longer signed up for those things. Being on the premiere team, whether I was a civilian or not, did have its advantages. 

"Your bruise is almost gone," Sam tells me with a grin. "Still a little grayish, but hardly noticeable now." 

I smiled back. At least one thing was going right. 

"But you do have an imprint of a Mars bar on your left cheek," she adds cheerfully. 

The smile faltered and fell away. 

I reached a hand up to my left cheek, and could feel the imprint. For a moment, I wished for the return of my long hair. Luckily we made it to Sam's lab without passing too many people, and I moved quickly inside. Sam followed me in, laughing as she shut the door. 

I gave her a hard look, and then turned my attention back to the artifact on the counter. I was having very little luck with the translation, but with everything going on, I hadn't had nearly enough time to work on it. We both sit down and stare at it for a moment, wondering if it would magically do something to reveal its purpose. 

It doesn't do anything. I sigh. 

I grab one of the books I had left here from earlier, and got to work. The next time I looked at my watch, it was an hour later, and I was no closer to getting the thing figured out. I took my glasses off and ran a hand over my face. Across from me, Sam had rested her chin on her arm, and was glaring hatefully at the small item. 

I was about to suggest we take a break when we heard voices coming from just outside the door. Sam frowns and walks over to open it. I force myself to stand and follow her. Ferretti and Jack are in a stand off in the middle of the grey hallway. 

Somewhere, I was sure a clock was striking high noon. 

"What did you say?" Jack growls. 

Ferretti grins brazenly. "I said my sister has this BUNNY rabbit that she's trying to find a home for. Did you know anyone that might want it?" 

Jack turns an accusing glare at us. "What did YOU say?" he demands. "What did _I _say?" 

"I'm not sure you want me to tell you what you said in front of Ferretti, Jack," I tell him. "But Sam and I haven't said anything. We've been in here working since the last time we saw you." 

"Really?" he asks with a forced calm. "Then just who told him? TEAL'C?" 

Ferretti breaks out into a full blown grin and my jaw drops open. Who knew Jaffas were gossips? 

"Teal'c?" Jack repeats in stupefaction. "Teal'c told you?" he demands of Ferretti. 

Ferretti grins. "He told his whole class." 

Jack pales. I feel a tiny pang of sympathy for him, but then remember the pictures he circulated of me asleep with a teddy bear. He planted the teddy bear, obviously. I had been drugged out of my mind by Janet because of a staff weapon blast to my shoulder. As though that would have stood in Jack O'Neill's way as he carried out a practical joke. 

"What, exactly, did he tell them?" Jack demands. 

"He told them how you desperately want a bunny rabbit," Ferretti says, trying to hold his composure. "And that . . . that," a few giggles escape. I never knew Ferretti could giggle. "That you would like to be a . . . a super hero." 

Ferretti was laughing helplessly now, and Jack was staring at him in mortification. 

"That's it," Jack says. "I'm packing up my stuff. I'll have to move to the Land of Light." 

"It isn't as bad as that, Jack," I tell him. "Surely you're man enough to not let a few people's comments run you off." 

He glares at me. Sam bit her lip. Ferretti starts laughing again. 

"This is all YOUR fault," he snaps. 

Isn't it always? "How, exactly?" I asked wearily. 

"You know," he says with a glare. 

"No, Jack, I don't. Please explain. How is it MY fault that you talk in your sleep?" 

"Not that part," Jack said with a tip lipped grin. "Oh no, I'm talking about the OTHER part."

Ferretti perks up, apparently wanting to learn of this other part. That made two of us. 

"You let them in!" he yells. 

"The door wasn't locked," I say. 

"That's because you didn't lock it when you left," he snaps back. 

I close my eyes and wait for the fireworks. 

"When he left, sir?" Ferretti asks helplessly. He's a moment from laughing again, but trying valiantly to hold it back. 

Jack has frozen. 

"What was he doing leaving, while you were sleeping, sir? Or . . . oops. I'm not supposed to ask, am I?" 

"We were watching the Simpsons," Jack says, louder than necessary. 

"Whatever turns you on," Ferretti says cheekily. 

Beside me, Sam gasps at Ferretti's brazenness, and grabs onto me for support before launching into a coughing fit that was really just badly disguised giggles. 

Jack's eyes had narrowed. "We were WATCHING the Simpsons. Both of us have HEAD INJURYS, so half way through we fell unconscious."

"So you missed the climax of the show, huh?" 

Now we all freeze. Sam's giggles stop abruptly. Jack's jaw locks. I go numb and fear for Ferretti's life. 

Run, Lou. RUN. 

He doesn't get my mental messages, and stays stuck in place, swallowing as he wrings his hands together. "I mean--"

"GO!" Jack snaps. "Go now, while you can." 

That is not a tone you mess with. Jack uses that tone, and even I--usually--will do whatever he says. 

Ferretti gulps and jogs off the way he came. 

Jack turns to me and glares. The run, RUN message was jangling around my mind again. This time directed at me. My feet didn't listen.

I'm saved, however, as Teal'c suddenly joins us in the hall. The look Jack shoots him is deadly. Teal'c doesn't have to worry, though. Because Jack can't take Teal'c. Teal'c would knock him on his ass, as he has many times before. As usual, I had the feeling I'd be Jack's scapegoat.

"Is something wrong, O'Neill?" Teal'c asks. 

"You told your class I wanted a bunny rabbit?" Jack snaps. 

"Indeed I did. I also informed them of your desire to be a 'super hero.' They found it most amusing." 

The vain in Jack's forehead is growing as Teal'c speaks. "And WHY did you tell them?"

"They were not listening to me. I learned on your television, that 'small talk' often helps to 'break the ice.'" 

"It was private," Jack snaps. 

"You did not tell me that, O'Neill. I did not know that it was something you would not wish others to know." 

Jack waves his hand in frustration and returns his glare to me. Sam makes full use of the momentary break. 

"You two look like you want to be alone," Sam says quickly, before grimacing at her choice of words. "I mean, not want to be, but to talk. Alone to talk not want to be alone to--- Alone so you can . . . talk."

She snags Teal'c's arm and starts off down the hall, following Ferretti's same route of escape. I watch them go jealously, and then turn back to Jack, resigned to my fate. 

"Do you do it on purpose?" Jack asks me wearily. 

"Do what on purpose?" 

"Systematically destroy my life." 

I opened my mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut. 

"Well?" he asks. 

"I don't think I'm doing it on purpose, no. No, I'm sure I'm not." 

His eyes narrow. "Well then this is one hell of an accident." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I hope you know--I'll never watch the Simpsons the same way again." He makes a face. 

Lucky for me, I didn't watch the Simpsons. 

He looks over at me, not angry this time. "So how's your . . ." he motions to my forehead. 

"Fine. It's fine, how's your--" I motion to his head. 

"Good," he says. "I guess we both had some bad luck this week, huh?" 

I gave a small smile. "Yes." 

An apology--Jack O'Neill style. 

"I'm going to have to kill Ferretti, you know," he tells me. 

I nod. "I'll help." 

We grinned at each other, united by our need for revenge against Lou. I suddenly realized what Sam had meant when she told me that male bonding could be a scary thing. 

Janet came rounding the corner, determination written all over her. "Colonel, Daniel," she greeted. "I'm glad I ran into you. I want you to both head to your quarters. I want to have a session with each of you before I clear you. Sam is first, so you guys can go ahead and wait together because it might be awhi--"

"NO!" Jack and I shout at once. 

Janet eyes us both warily, wondering about our hits to the head no doubt. I just knew she'd be whipping out that penlight during our sessions. 

"Well, wait separately then," she says bemusedly. "But I need you where I can find you so go."

"Yes, ma'am," Jack says with a grin. 

She frowns at him and then continues on her way, her long white jacket billowing behind her as she walked. Janet could have been a super hero.

"I'll go this way," Jack says, pointing left. 

I nod, and motion to the right. "And I'll just . . ." 

He gives a clipped nod and heads off, I go in the opposite direction. As I turn into the corridor to my quarters, I see Sam walking towards me. 

"You're still in one piece," she says with a grin. 

"No thanks to you and Teal'c. He could have killed me." 

"He wouldn't. We might want to hide Ferretti though." 

  
My eyes narrow. "Well you better not tell me where you put him."  

She laughs. "I'm just going to get cleared. First thing I'm doing--going home and taking a nice big bubble bath." 

I smile broadly. "I'm going to Starbucks," I tell her. 

"Oh, that sounds good. Count me in!" she yells as she continues down the hall. 

I head through the door of my quarters, and shut it behind me. Then I collapse into my desk chair. What a week. I don't know how we do so well off world. Maybe something about going through the gate makes us temporarily sane. And wouldn't that just shoot all of MacKenzie's theories to hell. 

I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. A shiver ran down my back as I suddenly got an 'Urgo' feeling. Now I really was imagining him. I shrugged off the feeling and snapped open my laptop, turning it on. 

As the computer booted, I got the strangest compulsion to sing . . . 

"Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily . . ." 

_   The End. _

 __


End file.
